Letter of Resignation
by Spoggly
Summary: "Pain is inevitable.  Suffering is optional."   Cuddy makes a work-inappropriate proposition.  Spoilers for the end of season three.


It took House almost three months to figure it out. Cuddy was predictably mortified, and Foreman wished that he had placed a bet on this one - the only thing better than seeing the expression on the bastard's face would have been making two hundred bucks from the interruption.

The letter of resignation felt like a slap in the face - a rejection of her hospital and herself, and no sheepish protest could make it feel like anything less than the formally worded rejection it was. Cuddy told herself she could have handled it if all along he'd only been sleeping with her as a tactic, a ploy for advancement; after all, Foreman's (Eric's) detail for administrivia had been one of the things that made her take a closer look. That, and House's grudging approval of his skill coupled with the way he filled out a suit. But she could have taken that. Heading a department had always been her trump card, had gotten even House to stay. Knowing not even the promise of power could get him to stay hurt worse than the alternative.

It had begun as a casual fuck on both their parts, after Don had run for the hills and Foreman had realized that, whatever he had with Wendy, it just wasn't _right_. Foreman had dropped off some of House's case files (late, of course) while Cuddy was working (late, again) on the diagnostics budget report. Continually striking out at internet dating hadn't done much for Cuddy's self-esteem, but the third time she had caught Foreman's gaze dropping from her face to casually glance at the skin exposed by her v-neck sweater she decided that it couldn't hurt to try. She had extended an invitation to a bar just off campus, seeing an opportunity to get out of the office, and perhaps charge her drinks as a business expense. Foreman had accepted in his characteristically reserved way, but she caught a grin fighting onto his face as he waited for her to throw on her coat.

They drove there separately, Cuddy constantly flicking her eyes to the rear view mirror, sure that at any moment Foreman would decided this was a terrible idea and hang a right off the highway. Either that or that she would look up and see House's motorcycle make a sudden appearance behind them. But when she pulled into the parking lot, Foreman was still behind her and they still hadn't picked up any followers. The relative emptiness of the lot turned out to be the best part about the newly-opened location.

The music was terrible and the food was worse, but the conversation was the best she'd had in days - probably the best she'd had in months when you took House out of the equation. She learned that Foreman's first pet had been a cat named Spock and told him the story of how she decided to go into medicine at the age of twelve, after her cousin's baby had died a day after being born premature. Two hours and five rounds later she called a cab, hesitantly giving an order for only one car while Foreman visited the restroom.

When he walked her outside, she realized that at some point in the evening 'Foreman' had turned into 'Eric' and 'Cuddy' into 'Lisa," and then she found herself with one hand on the car door, extending an invitation. On the drive to her home they swapped stories about House, and by the time the driver had been tipped the perfunctory offer of coffee wasn't even necessary. Neither had pretended it was anything more than a mutual working off of tension, but neither did they find themselves pretending it had been anything other than amazing. A series of after-hours drinks turned into an easy routine, with nights spent in Eric's clean-lined apartment and his toothbrush taking up space above Lisa's sink.

House finding out had been the beginning of the end, though. Cuddy had always wondered if she would ever be able to hold down a relationship, even when casual and work-based, when House had an obsessive need to involve himself with every aspect of the people around him. At first the constant threat of discovery had been a turn-on, knowing that the door could fly open at any minute when Foreman was underneath the desk, that House could come spewing some insane demand at just the wrong moment.

There was only so far the tension could go, though - a casual fling that had started out as a way to work off stress was becoming more significant, and with that came the threat of falling out, of losing something, of being hurt. She had never brought up the baby situation and he had never brought up the fact that his fellowship was running out - it was better to just hold on to what she could.

And until House pushed the issue through to Foreman breaking and leaving, she had though that would be enough.

Foreman had come into her office and handed her the letter, without saying anything. And when she looked up at him, she could read regret and relief in his eyes. She knew that it had had to come to an end eventually, and when even her offers of position and salary had fallen through (and how she thought she was going to get the board to approve that she had no idea, but she had to try) she hoped that another last-minute miracle would come through. Losing one of her best doctors as well as someone who had grown into more than a friend was a hard blow. But throughout the coming weeks, when Foreman stayed almost every night, sprawled under her duvet, going back to the hospital in the morning to find no one wanted one of House's fellows, she let herself hold on to that small hope. Even if he ended up leaving, taking one of her best dubious decisions with him, she would be able to have the memories of something shared just between the two of them.


End file.
